Challenges and Crossover Ideas
by padfootsrevenger
Summary: Just challenges and crossover ideas (one shots).
1. Chapter 1

Hello once again

Hello once again! This is a little one-shot that I wrote while watching SNL…found an interesting challenge by zyladia. Well I kind of mixed the two…the challenge(s) was/were to write a drabble where you never told who the main character actually is. The other challenge was to write about a character that had an unusual phobia.

**Trichopathophobia**

&

Silently he rubbed his hands over his smooth head and even smoother face. '_They_ said that he had a fear of hair…_they_ were all _fools_ to suggest that _he_ even had a fear! Those nasty muggles even had a name for it…what was it again?'

He pondered for a moment tapping his fingers on the arm rest.

Suddenly he snapped his fingers on his other hand together and showed a nasty smile. 'Ah yes that was it! Trichopathophobia. What a ridiculously long name for such a _ludicrous_ fear! The fear of hair indeed.'

Abruptly he stopped tapping his fingers and looked down at their bandaged ends. 'Nasty thing nails are…it's a good thing I chewed them off. Though those _fools_ probably suspect I fear my nails now. What an absolutely bizarre fear! To fear your nails, but _yet_….'

Silently he shook his head in denial… 'He had no fear for he was…'

"My Lord."

He took in the man's long blonde hair and gave a quiet shudder and suppressed a gag.

"What is so important that _you_ would dare to interrupt _my_ plotting?"

He about gagged once again when the man held up his hands in a pleading gesture showing off his perfectly manicured nails.

"Forgive me My Lord, but I have the delivery you requested!"

This comment did peek his interest so he resumed tapping his fingers in annoyance.

"Well where is _it_ then?"

The other man quickly pulled out a small box out from behind him and brought it forward quickly. Loud hisses could be heard from inside and the seated man leaned forward eagerly.

"Hurry up and open it." He quietly hissed.

"Right away My Lord." The blonde pulled back the flaps of the box to reveal a Sphynx cat glaring up at the two men.

"Oh what a beauty! Look at it…absolutely no hair!" The seated man reached for the cat to pet its furless head when he jerked his hand back with a hiss of pain.

"You _fool_! I specifically told you to de-nail _it_ before you brought _it_!"

As the blonde quickly shut the box and slipped away to do his bidding the seated man went back to rubbing his head.

'Hair and nails wouldn't be nearly as disgusting if they weren't dead.' At the thought the seated man shuddered feeling faint. He closed his eyes in a grimace and let out a soft moan.

'Fear of hair and nails indeed!'


	2. Talk Sex Challenge

The Talk Sex Challenge.

**The Talk**

A very uncomfortable Remus Lupin stood outside the bedroom door of one Harry James Potter

A very uncomfortable Remus Lupin stood outside the bedroom door of one Harry James Potter. He couldn't put this off any longer, Harry deserved to be spoken to as an adult and he, as James' last _responsible_ friend should be the one to tell him. 'I can do this, I can do this…' The mantra gave him strength as he raised his hand and knocked on the door. Silence followed before he knocked again. After another bout of silence he let out a slight sigh of relief. Thank Merlin he wasn't in! However, as soon as he relaxed the door opened and the object of his terror stood there.

The fifteen-year-old boy raised a black eyebrow in silent question.

"Er, Harry may I have a word?" Remus mumbled nervously, blushing brightly. Harry's other eyebrow joined the first. He had never seen his ex-professor so bothered.

Harry shrugged indifferently, his eyes disinterested as he turned his back to the man and walked back into the room. Remus followed swiftly, "Harry, is everything okay?"

"Of course everything isn't okay, what's to be okay about?" Harry replied with a frown.

Remus sighed softly, "Harry, I know this is a difficult time, but try not to become cynical."

"I'm not cynical, every thing just sucks." The boy declared with a heated look.

"I understand that you may feel alone during this time-" He began taking a seat at Harry's desk while the boy hopped back on the bed and pulled out a magazine, the cover of which Remus couldn't see.

"Merlin pants! I don't need to be comforted Remus. I have more important things to do than cry about it."

Confusion shone on the older man's face, "I see."

The teen let out a slight hm, and they settled into silence.

"You're being quiet today."

"Remus, I'm not quiet, I'm plotting. There's a difference."

"Plotting what?"

"Every boy's fantasy." Harry replied with a dreamy expression on his face and a lustful look in his eye as he looked at the magazine.

_Oh…OH_. Remus' eyes widened. Maybe this wouldn't be such a long or difficult conversation with the boy after all.

"Look at those bludgers." Harry muttered out distractedly.

_Is that what they were calling them these days? Back in his day they were called coconuts. Maybe if he shared Harry wouldn't be uncomfortable talking about it._

"We referred to them as coconuts back in my day." Remus stated with a blush.

Harry's head shot up, "Why would you call them coconuts?"

"Well the shape…they _do_ look like coconuts. Don't you think?"

Harry looked back down at the magazine and turned his head to the side slightly, "Well I suppose so. I wonder if they come in different sizes? I've heard they are bigger down south than here." He said with a downward hand gesture.

Remus blinked in confusion, not sure what the boy meant, "Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?"

"Of course they do, it's not as if they'll stay still. You haven't noticed?" Harry said flipping a page.

"No, I'm not usually looking at them."

"Let me guess…you're like me and watch the snitch. More interesting in my opinion."

The older man looked totally lost, "Snitch, Harry?"

"Remus, I understand that this was never your cup of tea-"

"Am I really that obvious?" Lupin cut in.

"Don't be such a muggle, Remus." Harry said with a snort, "You don't even know what a snitch is. Even I know what a snitch is, and I learned about _that _when I was eleven."

"I'm sure I know what a snitch is," Remus started defensively, "but all the terminology is different from when I was your age."

"I'm sure. Sirius always did say that you were hopeless at this."

"What did he say?" Remus asked with a slight edge to his voice.

Harry looked up and gave a slightly apologetic smile, "And I quote, 'Moony couldn't call his broom 'up' if his life depended on it'."

The older man sputtered slightly, "I'll kill him! Sirius Black is going to die."

"Remus, it's nothing to be ashamed about, I know many who can't get their brooms to respond." Harry said as he flipped another page, "It's all a matter of confidence, really, mind over matter. If you really want it up it'll get up. The power is yours! You can make it work."

"But I do not have a problem getting it up!" Lupin denied before turning a sickly shade of grey, "And I am not discussing this with you."

The young man shrugged apologetically, "I didn't mean to bring up a sore topic. We can talk about something else if you want."

Remus regained some composure, vowing to himself that he would castrate Padfoot later.

"It's fine, you can't help what Sirius says. Though he could have told me that he had already talked to you about this." Moony trailed off distractedly.

Harry gave him an odd look, "Remus, who hasn't talk to me about this yet? It's not as if it's a big deal. I've known and practiced it for years."

"You've what?"

"You know…fooled around a bit, a pick-up here and there, though only in off-season. Wood would kill me if I did that while at Hogwarts. You have no idea how demanding he can be."

Remus' mind seemed to shut down, "You have a boyfriend?"

The boy looked up sharply and shot the man and incredulous look, "What?"

"You have a boyfriend." Remus dutifully stated again still in shock.

"Explain to me again, why I need a boy friend?"

"You mean he's not?"

"Well no, of course he isn't. Whatever gave you that idea?" Harry asked curiously.

"You said he'd kill you-"

"Of course he would, doesn't want me to be too tired. He works me to exhaustion every time I practice with him. Honestly, I can only stand to be around him a few times a week. Any more and I'd be worn out."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Since first year, naturally."

"First year! Wood is three years older than you!" Remus cried outraged, "Why didn't you tell a professor?"

"What do you mean? Professor McGonagall set it all up." Harry said face set in a confused mask.

"Harry this is all very wrong--"

"If only closed minds came with closed mouths." Harry muttered. The boy sighed sadly, "Remus, I know you don't like it, but it's what I like. I thought you didn't mind…I mean my father and Sirius were the same."

"Voldemort's nipple! What do you mean by that!" Lupin demanded, highly disturbed.

"Well they practiced all the time-"

"With females their own age!"

"Remus, what do you think they did in the summer? Do you really think they'd stop just because there weren't any girls around?"

Lupin looked disturbed.

"Don't be upset, I'm sure they wanted to include you, but they said you were absolute rubbish on a broom."

With a startled yell, the man jumped from his chair and ran from the room.

"Huh," Harry said staring after the man before closing the quidditch magazine, "First the Cannons break up, and now Remus loses his mind. Some people just can't talk quidditch."


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and the Defeated Dark Lord

The eighteen-year-old quickly shot another spell behind him into the darkness as he dodged around another tree. A loud cry of pain was heard and he was sure that the spell had found it's mark but didn't slow his pace even though his legs burned and his lungs protested against the continued flight. Only a few times during his childhood had he been chased like this. Chased relentlessly by multiple pursuers in a game of cat and mouse...hunted by the larger pack until he was cornered and beaten. He needed to lose his pursuers soon or there would be no escape this time, jut a sticky end. His luck couldn't hold out forever, already he had disposed of three of the attackers but at least five more remained in the chase.

"Come on Potter! Give it up! Come back and fight you coward!" A gasping voice yelled from behind.

Harry didn't even spare his breath for a contemptuous snort. As if he was about to give up now when his escape was nearly in sight. He refused to fail. He hadn't defeated the Dark Lord only to be done in by these stooges. All he needed to do was reach the end of the forest and the end of the anti-apperation wards.

Light peaked through the trees ahead and with a triumphant grin he put on a final burst of speed. His feet nimbly navigating the forest floor, avoiding the large roots, and the slick leaves that littered the ground. So focused on his target he missed the small body that darted out of the trees adjacent to him. With a victorious snarl the newly appeared teenager rammed into the fleeing boy, viciously knocking him into a nearby tree.

With a resounding thud both teenagers crashed into the tree, Harry's head painfully smashing against the trunk as the other boy kept a firm grasp around his chest.

"Let...go." Harry painfully gasped out, struggling against the tight hold. In response the smaller teenager tightened his grasp. He could hear the pursuers getting closer.

In the last year Harry had hit his growth spurt and filled out a bit. No longer was he the scrawny teenager who was the shortest boy in his class. With strength born out of desperation, Harry threw his elbow back and smashed it into the side boy's head with a grunt. The restraining grasp lessened but did not fully falter. With another thrust Harry based him again, and again, but the boy refused to let go even though he wobbled a bit, dragging Harry against the tree.

The teen spit out some blood, and grinned slightly loopy as the footsteps sounded as if they would burst into the clearing at any second, "You'll never get away, Potter...never."

In desperation Harry gave one last mighty blow, urging his magic into his limbs to help. Magic dispersed across his skin, saturating the air with it, and suddenly the other boy was gasping for breath, his grey eyes bulging out as if a string had been tied around his neck and constricted tightly. One hand released Harry and made its way to the boy's neck. Suddenly Harry felt hot as if his skin was on fire, his blurry vision sought the other boy's out...and to his disgust the boy's face looked as if it was boiling.

In horror Harry drew back from the boy, backing into the tree as he did so. To his surprise the tree was not solid against his back, but instead a sticky warmth coated his robes and a feeling of vertigo overcame him. He was sinking into the tree. A sticky tar like substance seemed to reach out with black tentacles to wrap themselves around the struggling boy. The magic, thick in the air, made him gasp for breath. All he could do is stare in continued horror at the face in front of him, the boy had his mouth open in what appeared to be a silent scream. With a lurch the boy fell forward into Harry and the black substance, pushing the protesting Harry all the way into the tree.

When the following Death Eaters entered the clearing all that met their eyes was a pair of legs sticking out of the large tree in the middle of the clearing that continued to ooze.

"Where'd he go?"

To answer the Death Eater's question one would have to look in the skies above Surry, far far away.

A body emerged out of thin air, the boy's features distorting and mixing as if trying to figure out the proper features to settle into. When the features finally settled, the boy looked as if he was about eight or nine-years-old with light brown hair, high cheek bones, and a healthy tan color. His young face was badly bruised, and his clothes were torn giving him the appearance of recently being roughed up.

With a quick plummet the body fell from the air, ten feet from the ground and landed on the hood of a traveling car.

As it was, a certain Dursley was traveling down the road grumbling about having to give the boy a ride from school on Dudley's first day. It would have attracted undue attention to leave the boy behind to ride the bus with the older children when he had picked up Dudley since his first day was only a half day. The proud father planned on dropping his nephew off at the house, picking up his dear Petunia and then taking Dudley to anywhere he wished as a reward for a day well done. Vernon pointedly ignored the golden star on the boy's shirt, where his Dudley had none. As a result when they had reached the car, he had simply opened the boot of the car and pointed, red faced as the boy quickly scurried in used to his Uncle's odd moods and punishments.

The drive from the school was only five minutes or so, and once things had settled down the boy would be walking the few miles to and from school. It would keep the hoodlum out of trouble. Vernon glared at the trunk of the car through the side mirror. Had he been paying more attention he would have seen the body that literally fell from the sky and onto the hood of his car as he reached the turn for Private Drive. A fact that if he had shared later through all his ranting, the police still would not have believed.

Vernon slammed on his breaks, swerving into the yard of number one and running over a large bed of flowers. When the car came to a complete stop the body flew off into the destroyed flower bed.

The large man stared in shock at the destroyed hood of his car, until a screech disturbed him from his state. He cringed at the sound, so greatly reminded of his own wife. The seriousness of the situation started to sink in as Edna Wellington disappeared back through her front door, clearly about to call the authorities. He had ran a child over. His beady eyes widened in fear and his brows creased trying to think of a way out of this.

"He came out of nowhere..." Vernon muttered quietly and firmly to himself.

"Dad did you kill him?" the young fat boy asked from the back seat.

Vernon gulped nervously ignoring his son's question as he ran through what he'd tell the police. They may have been more likely to believe him if they hadn't found his five-year-old nephew locked in the trunk.

"_Surry Man Admits Guilt to Running Over Child."_

_"The Child Under the Stairs!"_

_"Horror on Private Drive."_

_"Struck Child: Who is he? The mysterious story of the boy who appeared..."_

Petunia threw the papers away from her in bitter frustration. Her semi-perfect life fell apart only weeks ago on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of a mother's life. She couldn't even show her face outside of the house in the neighborhood since the news broke. Had Vernon simply hit the child that would have been that, but the police finding Harry in the trunk and the subsequent investigation that ensued brought shame on the Dursley household.

After all, what sort of normal family would keep their orphaned nephew in the cupboard under the stairs, and not only as a punishment, but since the first day he was entrusted to them. That was exactly where Vernon place the toddler the first time he cried. The whole ordeal even made her lose her precious Dudley until a few days ago when the police finished their investigation. After a quick and heated conversation with her husband it was decided that he would take all the blame for the treatment of the boy. If there was one positive thing that could be said about Vernon Dursley it would be his devotion he had for his wife and son.

With his typical attitude it took little convincing on Petunia's part that she had simply went along with the treatment of the boy to pacify her short tempered husband. Vernon's seeming hatred for the 'little freak' convinced the police that the man had no place around children in general and his nephew in particular. They still had the right to charge Petunia with child neglect if they felt that she had lied to them at all, but it was determined that her nephew would be returned to her care. Before Harry was returned to her she had to take parenting class and once he moved back in there would be weekly visits from a child welfare associate to make sure he was treated properly.

Dudley it had been decided would attend weekly counseling sessions separate of his cousin to deal with his own anger and bullying issues...issues caused by his father. Petunia had agreed to the sessions because if she hadn't and Dudley continued in his behavior, everyone would have whispered about how he was just like his child abuser father.

Petunia quickly composed herself and went back to the stove to cook breakfast. The doctors had even imposed a diet on her poor baby! She had to admit that her son was just a smidgen over weight, but he was a growing boy! He needed to eat a lot to grow up strong. He'd eventually grow out of his baby fat.

Harry was truly happy for the first time in his young life. A year had passed since all hell broke loose on Private Drive. He would never have guessed at all the commotion being found in a trunk would cause amongst the police and neighbors that day. He wouldn't have made a sound in the trunk but he really had to sneeze, he was terribly thirsty, his head ached horribly, and he felt oddly drained. When the trunk was finally opened to the protests of the large man, the police pulled out small boy in an ill fitting uniform, clearly dehydrated from the hot trunk with a large gash on his forehead from the sudden stop into a tire iron.

When asked why he was in the trunk Dudley had quickly piped up, "Dad put the freak in there!" much to the woe of said man.

The police were much harsher in their questioning of the man as his nephew was rushed to the hospital to be treated for the head wound, dehydration, and examined for further injuries.

After being treated at the hospital he was taken to stay with a nice older lady, who didn't give him any chores or yell at him for breathing too loudly. Quite frankly his stay with Mrs. Walsh had been the best that he could remember.

He was fed until bursting, gave clothing that fit properly, never hit or yelled at, and allowed to play to his heart content. He even enjoyed school. Luckily for him he was placed at a local school in Mrs. Walsh's district away from the influences of Dudley. The teachers praised him for his quick mind and he quickly, if not shyly made friends with his classmates. In those two months his confidence had grown in leaps and bounds and it showed in both his school work and friendships.

Even his meetings with Davis were good, even though they made him uncomfortable. His Uncle had always said that he was not to talk about his family in a negative way...ever. So grudgingly telling about his treatment at the hands of his family was always a difficult subject. Davis seemed interested in his Aunt Petunia too, but all Harry really could say about his aunt was that she disliked him...she always gave him chores, treated Dudley better, and seemed to ignore his presence. When he talked about his aunt's treatment of him, Davis generally frowned but did not comment all that much.

When he finally left Mrs. Walsh's to return to his aunt, Harry was sure that his good luck had finally worn out, but was surprised. While he would never say that Aunt Petunia was 'warm' towards him, she no longer screeched at him, forced him under the stairs, or barely fed him. He had his own room, was fed at every meal, and was only given a few number of chores each day. Even Dudley seemed more subdued and only tried to hit him twice before his mother took away his favorite toy.

The gossip that followed Petunia eventually forced her from the neighborhood, and she moved across country for a fresh start for her and the two boys.

With only a meager income from the government and from Harry's trust fund, Petunia soon found herself working outside the home to support a comfortable lifestyle. While it wasn't a manger's position at a company, it made ends meet and she and the boys never went without. Sometimes she felt bad that she couldn't give Dudley everything he wanted, but even she had to grudgingly admit that she preferred her son now to the one who used to throw a fit in the store until he came home with a new toy.

On his specialized diet, Dudley quickly shed much of his extra fat and was now almost at a completely normal body weight. He still had anger issues and continued to work weekly with a therapist in an attempt to curb his tantrums, but as far as Harry could see his cousin was leaps and bounds better than he had been.

Harry loved his new school and his new friends. Life couldn't be better. One day he'd find the kid Vernon ran over and thank them for changing his life so much. To his six-year-old mind, such a statement was perfectly logical.


	4. The Hallowed One (X-Men)

**The Hallowed One**

**The-Man-Who-Lived**

Harry stared at the veil with tired eyes. He could hear them whispering, calling him...even more strongly than he had two years ago. Their voices waffled in and out like a radio being tuned, some so clear, while the others were garbled as if being broadcast over a great distance.

Since the Battle of Hogwarts a month ago the dead haunted him. In the shadows they would appear, watching, waiting, for what he did not know, but he was becoming increasingly isolated from his friends. In their individual grief they did not notice as they were all distant and grieving in their own ways. No one knew that the very friends they were grieving were the ones to watch Harry silently from the shadows, never uttering a word, just staring intently as if there was something Harry had yet to do.

Believing the dead had something to do with the Hallows, he placed the Elder's wand back into Albus' tomb and locked the Resurrection ring away, but the following morning they were both on his nightstand as if they had never left. The longer the wand and the ring were around, the more they felt as if they were and had always been his.

When he had awoken this morning, he had silently dressed, grabbed the three hallows and immediately set out for the Department of Mysteries. The closer he got to the ministry, the more the dead surrounded him...walking with him...shadowing him. He would even say they started to become excited if the quiet whispering and quick movements were anything to go by.

By the time he reached the room with the veil, Harry was completely surrounded by the dead. They simply watched on as he stared at the veil with his head cocked to the side listening to the voices.

"Har-Ha-Harry..." a familiar voice cried out from behind the veil.

Harry froze and a fire of interest entered his eyes.

Walking closer he paused until he was a hair's breath away from the veil. Closing his eyes he listened intently as the voice became clearer.

"Harry? Where are you? Harry!"

"Sirius..." he breathed out quietly.

With determination he looked around the room at his spectators.

Remus stepped forward and pointed to the Veil and spoke as if from a great distance, "...go..."

Harry nodded and stepped forward, greeting death, once again like an old friend.

He found himself, once again, in a small confined space. Only darkness and the smell of urine assaulted his senses.

Standing up, Harry reached for the light string, ignoring the pain in his back that this movement caused, but pulling the string brought no light. With an annoyed sigh, he held his hand out, palm upward and called upon his magic. A blueish-green light quickly traveled down his arm and pooled into his palm, growing stronger as Harry willed the light to fill the cupboard.

And it was his cupboard. Same old spiders, same dirty mattress he had used since he could remember, same old rickety floorboards, and same old dust and the stench of long confinements. However, what was new was the writing on the wall. He had often written where his aunt and uncle could not see...'freak' had never been out of place on these walls, but the word mutie was one that was new to him. 'Mutie freak' shown eerily in the light, written in what he quickly identified as blood.

'Mutie?' he wondered silently as he surveyed the blood trail across the wall and to the small cot. A pool of blood could be seen in the middle of the mattress. He grimaced as he reached up a hand to the back of his shirt, which was stiff with dried blood.

His stomach gave a loud grumble, and he winced. From the emptiness he knew he had not eaten in days, maybe even a week...they probably hadn't even allowed him out of his cupboard to use the bathroom if the smell of urine was any indication.

A surge of anger coursed through him at the treatment his aunt and uncle inflicted upon this version of himself. He knew that to have landed in this universe, his alternate was no longer alive, and from the state of his cupboard he knew his demise had been at the hands of his loving relatives.

With a wave of his hand the lock clicked and the door swung silently open. Lights shown in through the windows, and the sounds of an empty house greeted his ears.

Well...first thing first, food, shower...and then wait on his relatives for some answers.

"But you're dead!" the horse faced woman screeched frantically when her eyes landed on the boy casually lounging on the couch.

"Oh, Aunt Petunia, I did die." Harry said with disgust and with a wave of his hand the woman froze, stiff as a board, and fell to the carpet.

"And now, we're going to find out exactly why that is."

With a brutal thrust he entered the woman's mind, uncaring of the pain he was causing her, and the world of mutants was laid bare before him.

Mutant. He was a mutant here. His parents were mutants. While once again, his aunt was painfully normal, and as resentful as ever.

When he had gleaned all the useful information from her mind, he pulled back in disgust at the abuse they had inflicted upon the boy.

"Oblivate."

A glazed look passed through her eyes.

"You found your nephew's body, after Vernon beat the boy and threw him in cupboard to rot and die while you did absolutely nothing to help. You removed his body after days and disposed of it. You will continue on with your life, but if you are questioned about your nephew by the authorities you will admit to your crimes."

Harry turned to leave before pausing, "and you will put those fucking pigs on a diet."

With a final wave of his hand, Petunia sagged into the floor, still dazed. A soft crack broke her out of her dazed state.

She quickly got to her feet and went to fetch the cleaning supplies. She needed to have all evidence of the freak scrubbed away before Vernon got home. Finally they could live a normal life.

Harry pulled the t-shirt over his head, covering the tattoo of the deathly hallows imprinted over his heart.

It had been three years since he had left Private Drive and began life in this new world. Since that time his grasp on wandless magic had only grown stronger. He was now at the same strength he had been with his wand when he left his world. His magic showed no indication of slowing down or stopping either. Literally, power bubbled under the surface of his skin.

With some magical persuasion he was able to acquire a job at a local pub, as no sane person was going to hire a fifteen-year-old boy.

He did his best to appear normal. Since he arrived anti-mutant sentiment had only grown stronger. When his aunt and uncle had confessed to killing their mutant nephew, they had been let off by claiming self-defense. It was interesting to note that none of the actual details of his beating and murder had been made public. As far as the public was concerned, a 12-year-old mutant went off the deep end and Vernon Dursley had simply been protecting his wife and son. Harry was unsurprised when the verdict did not raise any outrage from the general population. Just the other day the mutant registration act passed and mutants were being hunted down and dragged off.

Tying up his trainers he headed out the door, he needed to pick up groceries this morning, as he'd have no time later during the day.

The store wasn't far, and at a quick pace he was there in 5 minutes and back out the door in another 15.

As he turned the corner to his apartment complex he heard a cry from the alley next to it. He was about to walk on when he heard another cry...he silently cursed his savings people thing...before turning back around and running down the alley.

What he came upon made his blood boil in rage.

A group of teenage boys had a smaller boy cornered, laughing and throwing insults as they kicked him repeatedly.

"Come on, mutie! Can't you fight back?" a tall blond boy yelled.

"He's a pansy! Look at the baby cry!" "No one wants a mutie!"

The group laughed as the alley's temperature dropped a few degrees.

"What the hell do you think you're doing."

Harry's voice was laced with cold fury as the boys turned around quickly.

"It's just a freak." the blond boy stated.

"A freak? A FREAK?!" Harry strolled forward and pushed between the boys and knelt next to the nearly unconscious boy. He looked normal enough, nothing that screamed mutant.

Harry stood back up and turned on the boys, "does he look like a freak to you?"

The nearest boy opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out. He grabbed his throat, eyes wide as he backed away from Harry.

"Nothing to say?..." There was an edge to Harry's voice that made the other boys start backing away, before the blond stood tall.

"You're a mutie! A freak, like him!"

The group of boys exchanged looks, before another brave teenager also spoke out, "we know what to do with freaks like you."

Harry laughed coldly. "Oh I know exactly what to do with the likes of you."

With a wave of his hand boys were expelled backwards into the wall. He made sure they were all unconscious before kneeling once again down to the beaten boy.

"Hey, you alright?"

The boy, who could be no older than twelve stared up at him blankly, before closing his eyes, finally losing consciousness.

"Shit," Harry muttered before glancing around the alley. With an annoyed sigh he quickly wiped the bullies memories before disillusioning the young mutant and floating the boy behind him as he quickly walked out of the alley, only stopping to snag his bag of groceries.

"I don't hurt?"

"You don't hurt." Harry confirmed to the boy.

The boy blinked owlishly up at him, still clearly not fully aware. "Why don't I hurt?"

Harry considered what to tell the boy. He had brought the kid back to his apartment and fixed him up to the best of his abilities. While, he wasn't completely healed, he was nothing like the bloody pulp he brought home.

"You're a mutant." Harry finally stated.

The boy shrunk back into the sheets, looking fearful. "I swear! I didn't want it! I didn't do anything."

"Hey, hey...it's alright," Harry soothed as panic leached into the other boy's voice, "how do you think you were healed?"

There was a long pause as the boy looked up at Harry intently.

"You're a freak too?" the boy asked, fear still evident in his voice.

"You're not a freak."

"I am. We are. That's what everyone says."

"Well everyone is wrong, now aren't they? What kind of people beat a child for something they can't help? Animals..." Harry stated, anger clear in his voice.

"Where are your parents?"

The boy shrank back into the sheets, fear in his eyes.

"...or not..."

Harry looked down at his watch and cursed softly.

"Look, kid...I have to get to work, but make yourself at home. I'll be back around 9. Don't answer the phone or the door. Food is in the fridge. Don't go out."

He quickly slung his jacket on and headed out the door, throwing a wandless locking charm as he went. It was only after a block he realized he forgot to get the kid's name.

Work was rather uneventful after the day he had. The only news to note was that the bullies were on the news. Ended up at the local hospital with nasty concussions with no memory of what happened. Police were asking for any witnesses to come forward. He honestly wished he had done more than left them with a nasty concussion. He had no idea what to do with the kid in his apartment. He couldn't just turn him out, and his parents were clearly not an option. Knowing the government, he'd be hauled off to some facility before you could say, 'mutant.'

On his way home he grabbed some Chinese takeaway for him and the kid.

When he opened the door he found the kid had showered and was sitting on the couch watching tv. He turned wide-eyed to stare at Harry when he came through the door.

"I come bearing food," he said and held up the bag, "want a coke?"

The kid nodded silently.

Harry shrugged and went into the kitchen, snagging plates out of the cabinet and placing them on the table, before turning to the fridge.

He waved for the boy to take a seat as he simply stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"The name is Harry, last name unimportant. You?" he asked as he turned back to the table, carrying two cans over.

"Colin."

"Well Colin, feel free to stay as long as you want. It's not much, but you'll be safe here. Do you have anywhere else you'd rather go?"

The boy shook his head slowly.

"Alright then. So what's your mutation? In case I need to help hide it?" While many mutations were benign, others he had heard about or seen could be quite dangerous, not unlike accidental magic outbursts.

Colin looked nervous, "Well...I can't really control it...it just happens."

"What does?"

"Electricity. I make electronics explode...and I give off sparks."

Harry leaned back in his chair and popped the top to the can, "well that is interesting. Let's try from scarring you for the time being."

Colin nodded silently before picking at his food.

A few days passed and the two settled into a familiar routine of work and television, until on the fourth morning their routine was interrupted by a knock at the door. Harry shot Colin a quick look before pointing to the bedroom door, which the younger boy quickly took the hint and disappeared through.

He peered through the peep hole only to find an aging man in a wheel chair and a red headed woman on the other side. With a quirked eyebrow Harry opened the door.

"May I help you?" he inquired, not quite hostile, but definitely not inviting either.

The man smiled softly at him, "I believe you can. My name is Charles Xavior, and this is Jean Grey. May we come in?"

Harry plastered a polite smile on his face and stepped back, opening the door further.

"Feel free."

"Thank you," the man stopped beside the couch in the livingroom.

Harry silently debated the pros and cons of offering the two tea. He really didn't want to encourage them to stay any longer than necessary, but he had an uncanny feeling that this meeting would be longer than he'd like regardless.

"Tea?" he asked once the two were seated.

"Oh, yes please."

Harry quickly disappeared into the kitchen and set to making the tea, grabbing a few biscuits from the cabinet while he was at it. In no time he was carrying a tray back into the livingroom. As he entered he felt a slight brush across his mental shields, and he stiffened slightly before locking eyes with Xavior.

Calm blue eyes stared back, hiding any surprise he may have felt. The man exchanged looks with the red head as Harry placed the tray down.

Once each had a cup of tea in their hands, Harry took a seat across from the two, "How exactly can I help you two today?"

"Well, Mister...?"

"Harry, just Harry."

The man quirked an eyebrow, "Alright, Harry. I have come to speak to you and your son about my school for gifted children."

Harry blinked at the other man in surprise. The mental compulsion he weaved around himself induces others to view them as they think appropriate. Clearly, Xavior was under the impression that he was much older than he actually was. He considered what this would mean for Colin.

"And if I told you I didn't have a son nor any 'gifted' children here?" he finally said before taking a sip of his tea.

Jean Grey looked at the professor and then back at Harry, "Then I would tell you that we know that there is another mutant here and we mean neither of you harm."

Harry quirked an eyebrow at her, "You're a mutant."

"As are you." she replied calmly back, "we simply wish to help."

He made a noncommittal sound at her mutant claim before staring at them for a moment deciding whether to trust them. Realistically, he could easily incapacitate them if the need arose. Colin would be in no danger.

"Colin!" he yelled.

The bedroom door slowly opened and a sandy blond head appeared, wearing a nervous expression.

"Come have a cup of tea and hear what these people have to say."

Colin nodded and quickly made his way over to Harry and took a seat, looking nervously at the two strangers who smiled encouragingly at him.

"So Colin, you look much better than I expected." Xavior stated, staring at the boy as if expecting to find serious damage. The red head was looking the boy over with a critical eye.

"Sorry?" the boy asked confused.

"I saw that you had an incident with some older boys just a few days ago. I was rather concerned that you were seriously injured."

Harry tensed slightly and eyed the man, "saw, how?"

"I, like you, am a mutant." Colin's eyes widened and he shot a look at Harry, "I run a school for mutants in America to help them learn to control their skills, so they are not a danger to themselves and those around them. We also offer the standard educational classes with the hopes that our students will continue on to university."

The man paused slightly, "I have a way to locate mutants in need. I saw you a few days ago and the distress you were in. I have come to offer you a spot at my school, where you can learn to control your abilities."

"How do we know we can trust you?" Harry asked, seeing the hope on Colin's young face. If they had a machine that could find mutants that could be a very bad thing for the mutants in hiding. If these two were working for the government...he shuddered to think what that would mean. He seriously wished he could look into the man's mind.

Maybe the girl?

Harry sent out a light touch but immediately withdrew at the sharp look both of the newcomers shot him.

"You're telepathic!" Jean exclaimed.

He shrugged noncommittally, "How do we know you speak the truth?"

"I was one of the professor's first students," the red-head stated before continuing, "I am now a teacher myself at the school. I can do nothing more than promise that our students' safety and well-being are of utmost importance."

Harry sat back as the woman continued to speak, telling Colin all about the wonders of the school. He watched the boy's face and couldn't help but remembering finding out about Hogwarts all those years ago. The same desperate longing of acceptance was on Colin's face.

"But what about Harry?"

The two adults shot the boy kind looks before Jean answered, "well, Colin, the school is for children, however we do help adult mutants in need."

Colin looked confused at her response, "Adult? But, Harry..."

"Colin!" Harry broke in sharply, but the damage had already been done, both adults were looking at Harry in a new light, and as their suspicion built he could feel his enchantments losing their potency. It had never occurred to him to find out how Colin viewed him.

Both the Professor and Jean drew in a sharp breath.

"You're both children."

The identical scowls sent her way did nothing to improve his claim that he was **not** a child.

Harry sighed as he looked out the window of the jet. He couldn't believe he let himself be talked into accompanying the three to this school in America. It was easy to blame his concern for Colin as why he agreed, but he was also bored of his life in England. While his life was quiet, boring, and hidden it offered him nothing long-term. Quite frankly he was intrigued at the concept of a mutant school. Also he wasn't about to let the kid walk away into a possible trap. Simply because these two were mutants did not mean they weren't working for the government. There were rats in every group. If things went pear shaped, he could easily remove Colin from danger.

Colin had long since fallen into a peaceful sleep as they crossed the ocean. Harry almost envied the boy's ability to sleep so peacefully in such an unknown situation.

He slowly let his eyes study the red headed woman as she piloted the craft. A telepathic and telekinetic individual was quiet fascinating to observe. Over the past three years he had looked into the mutant phenomenon, and while he didn't believe the majority of them to be as strong as the typical wizard, he couldn't deny that some individuals were particularly gifted. He had come across everyday mutants in his life, but most of their mutations could hardly be considered powerful or dangerous. Mutations were much more common than the world believed, and with the average mutant hiding these little 'quirks' the world was likely to believe that mutants were much more uncommon than they actually were.

While Harry was studying the woman, he could feel the eyes of the man on him. After a moment he turned his head and met the inquisitive blue eyes of the man. He arched an eye brow in enquiry.

There was something about the man's stare that caused a pang to go through him as he was starkly reminded of Professor Dumbledore. He quickly squashed the feeling of lost that arose within him. The professor's death was still a sore spot with him.

"Yes?"

Jean Grey did not give any indication that he had spoken suddenly after several hours of silence.

The professor leaned forward slightly, curiosity plain on his face.

"I am surprised that I never spotted you before on Cereboro."

Harry shrugged before leaning back, "Perhaps I was never in need of your help. From what you have said, you tend to pick up on mutants in dire need. I have always been able to take care of myself."

"Where are your parents?"

"Dead. They have been for quite a while."

Jean turned her head slightly towards the Professor as if listening to something.

"My apologizes."

Harry waved off his words. He had long put the deaths of his parents behind him. He had really never known either James or Lily, but he would always love them.

"Where have you been living since then?"

"With others. Until they found out about my mutant problem." Harry said shortly before turning fully to face the professor, almost daring him to question further.

Either the man didn't get the glint in Harry's eyes or chose to ignore it.

"Which was when?"

Harry debated the pros and cons of telling the telepathics anything at all. Even if they were able to piece together his identity, it's not like they could learn anything of substance. Harry Potter truly existed in this world.

"Nearly four years. My relatives decided they were finished dealing with a freak in their house, so they removed me. Or rather I removed myself after they failed." He allowed himself a moment to reveal in Petunia's abject horror to walking in and finding her dead nephew calmly sitting on her couch.

"Failed to remove you?" Jean questioned confused. She did not catch the head shake the professor shot her.

"I have always had an uncanny knack for surviving."

Harry expected the two to blanch at his statement, but the professor merely looked sad while Jean's lips pinched in displeasure.

"Well Harry, I can assure you that you have nothing to fear at the mansion. Our student's safety is of paramount importance." The professor shot him a reassuring smile.

At the words, Harry glanced at Colin. He'd stay to make sure Colin was taken care of then he'd move on.

Colin's eyes widened at the number of scars that littered the older boy's body.

They were both sitting on a table while Dr. Jean Grey puttered around the lab, grabbing her bag and a computer.

When she had instructed the boys to remove their shirts, Harry had complied with a shrug and quickly stripped his chest bare. Even with the similar malnutrition he had suffered in this dimension during childhood, the past four years of stable nutritious meals and a workout regime had done much to correct the abuse he had suffered. While he would never be called tall for his age, Harry had filled out nicely and was actually in much better shape than he had ever been in his first dimension. However, there was nothing to be done about the numerous scars that littered his body. He had even inherited the scars he had picked up in the wizarding world. He still hadn't figured that out yet, but as with the Deathly Hallows tattoo, he assumed that the scars had left a magical imprint on his soul. He glanced down at the back of his right hand, slowly running a finger over the scarred writing.

"Why didn't you heal yourself?" Colin asked in confusion.

The red haired woman stopped her movements and glanced over the two in confusion.

"I couldn't at the time." Harry said simply, and Colin nodded his head in seeming understanding.

Harry looked over at the younger boy and noticed his distinct lack of scarring and bruising. He was actually tall for his age, and well filled out. Clearly before his mutant abilities developed, Colin never suffered at the hands of his parents. He wondered silently how previously loving parents could simply reject their children for developing their abilities. Of course he had seen it before in the wizarding world among muggle born, but it was still rare.

Colin started to spark slightly, as he was prone to doing when he was nervous.

"Hey!" Harry bumped shoulders with the other boy, absorbing the electricity the boy was giving off. The last thing they needed was for Colin to fry the computers down here.

"Don't sweat it, kid. Nothing bad is going to happen."

Colin nodded gratefully. They had discovered the second day in the apartment that Harry could absorb Colin's electricity with no negative effects, when the younger boy was about to lose control and fry the TV. Honestly, the electric surge felt like a boost to Harry's magic. Which led him to pondering once again the nature of magic and the effect it had on electricity.

With a quick exam both boys were allowed to leave the medical wing. As it was well past midnight, Jean led them directly to a bedroom they would be sharing.

Colin happily bounded over to the bed nearest the window and flopped down, sinking into the comfortable mattress.

Harry scanned the room silently before acknowledging Jean's farewell. Waiting until Colin was deeply asleep, Harry began casting several protective and alert wards. After he was finished, he laid back down and drifted into an uncomfortable sleep.

Xavier nodded for Jean to give her report for the others to hear.

"Colin is completely healthy and his blood labs are normal. Harry healed his injuries after the boys attacked him and there appears to be no lasting damage. Now, Harry on the other hand…" Jean trailed off with a grim look, "has clearly suffered extensive abuse in the past. From what I could garnish from the conversation between the two boys, the abuse occurred before his mutant abilities surfaced."

"Which was when?" Scott inquired his face tense in displeasure. Child abuse always got to them.

"Elven" the Professor breathed out quietly.

Jean nodded and frowned, "Some of the scars…he looked like he had been whipped. His back was practically a cross patch of lash marks…and someone had carved words into the back of his hand. A few of his wounds I could not identify, perhaps bites or claw marks, but a knife had definitely been used upon him. I would like to do more thorough exam later this week with an MRI. There's no telling the lasting damage he has from the abuse. I would be unsurprised if they starved him as well. While he is not underweight now, his short stature and poor eye sight could be an indication of previous malnutrition."

Xavier was hardly surprised by the news, knowing that abusers rarely needed an excuse to inflict violence on their target. The fact that the abuse occurred before the people knew Harry was a mutant also gave credence to the belief that they had inflicted the abuse for other reasons.

"What words?"

Jean looked over at her boyfriend, "I am not sure, but it was definitely a sentence. I only caught a glimpse before he positioned his hand where I could not see it."

Scott nodded distractedly.

"I must admit I am most excited to see his gene work" a bit of excitement leaked into Jean's eyes.

"His ability is healing?"

The professor and Jean exchanged bemused looks before the professor shook his head in bemusement.

"Frankly, I am not sure the extent of his powers. Firstly, he is a telapath, and quiet an adapt one at that. And while I have been unable to look into his thoughts, Colin has been most enlightening. Telepathy, telekenisis, healing, illusionist, even an electromagnetic ability….frankly the boy is fascinating, and the extent of his full powers remain unknown."

"He could be dangerous."

Both the Professor and Jean nodded at Scott's soft statement.

"Harry strikes me as the type that could be very dangerous," the Professor admitted, "however, he does not strike me as the volatile type. Young Colin is proof of that, and the fact that Harry has managed to live by himself for four years attests to his ability to stay out of trouble."

The older man paused for a moment, "I believe the boy simply wishes to be left alone."

His eyes contacted with Jean's as he continued, "in fact, I do not believe he would have accompanied us at all if it had not been for young Mister Colin."

"He does seem adept at hiding, Professor." Jean agreed.

"Nor is he particularly trustful." Xavier leaned back into his seat, steeping his fingers in thought, "truthfully, I do not believe he trusts what we said to be the truth, and my inability to enter his mind has made me slightly uneasy."

The last part was admitted ruefully.

"I am positive young Harry only agreed to come along in case he needed to protect Colin if we turned out to be a threat."

"And when he realizes they're both safe here, professor?" Scott asked curiously.

"He'll leave." Jean said softly, saddened by the thought.

Xavier sent both of this former students kind looks.

"We can only hope that Harry chooses to stay," he paused a moment before continuing, "while he seems to have quite the strong grasp on his powers, our school offers much more than the ability to harness one's power. I have a strong feeling that Harry will come to appreciate what our school has to offer."


End file.
